


Souvenirs

by lfg1986



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Comfort, First Time, M/M, Sadness, really just pure angst I'm sorry guys, sad boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 03:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19243132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lfg1986/pseuds/lfg1986
Summary: After they finish filming their last kiss in Bergamo, Timmy is an emotional wreck.  After he leaves early from their celebratory dinner, Armie finds him in his room, and they give each other a night of memories to hold onto for when they can't have this anymore.





	Souvenirs

**Author's Note:**

> This came about from a prompt the lovely monicamelancolie sent me on tumblr last week asking for a first time fic after they film the "kiss of a lifetime" in Bergamo when Timmy got so upset. I'm not sure this is exactly what she had in mind, but I was in ~ a mood a few days ago and this is what happened. I'm so sorry. :(
> 
> Inspired by the song "All I Ask" by Adele.
> 
>  
> 
> For the sad porn posse. xoxo

_All I ask is_

_If this is my last night with you_  
_Hold me like I'm more than just a friend_  
_Give me a memory I can use_  
_Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do_  
_It matters how this ends_  
_'Cause what if I never love again?_

 

 

When Luca yelled ‘cut’ for the final time on their kiss against the wall in Bergamo, they were so lost in the moment, they didn’t even hear him.  It took Luca calling out twice more and one of the sound guys finally coming over before Timmy reluctantly peeled himself off of Armie and took a few steps back.

 

Armie slowly came out of his own haze to the stark realization that it was over.  That was the final shot of their final scene, and now it was finished.  Luca comes running over, excitedly chattering about how transcendent their performances were.  He tries to share in the excitement of wrapping the shoot on such a high note, but his mind is elsewhere, still stuck in the memory of Timmy’s lips on his one last time.  They’d done so many takes to get it just right, much to everyone’s frustration, but when they finally got it, it was nothing short of magical.

 

He looks around to find Timmy, seeing him several paces down the wall, shoulders hunched over like he might be sick.  Armie excuses himself from Luca quickly and rushes over to make sure he’s ok.  When he sees Timmy’s red, puffy face, eyes full of unshed tears, lips bitten and swollen, he immediately brings him to his chest in a tight embrace.  Timmy’s heart wrenching sobs spill out of him within seconds, tears soaking through Armie’s shirt as he clings to him like a lifeline.

 

Armie can see Luca moving closer, obviously concerned about whatever is happening with Timmy, but Armie meets his eyes and shakes his head softly, signaling him that he’s got this.  He holds Timmy close and whispers “It’s ok” into his hair so many times that he starts to forget which one of them he’s trying to console.

 

When Timmy finally pulls back, he sniffles once and looks away, embarrassed by his breakdown.  “Sorry.”  He still sounds pained, and Armie’s heart constricts painfully in his chest.

 

“Don’t be.”  Timmy still won’t look at him, so he clears his throat and tries another tactic.  “Come on, everyone’s going to Luca’s for one last dinner together.”  He offers a hand for Timmy to take.  After a few seconds of Timmy staring at it numbly, he slips his hand into Armie’s and they begin the short walk to where Luca is staying during their sojourn in Bergamo.

 

The sounds of a crowded café and a group of teenagers tittering over a video playing from one of their phones fills in the spaces of their silent journey, hands clasped together but eyes staunchly on the narrow road in front of them.

 

They arrive to celebratory cheers and hugs, drinks immediately shoved into both of their hands as they are led to the main dining area where Luca has most of the other cast and crew gathered round, ready to serve an entire army with the amount of food he’s prepared.  Timmy’s hand pulls out of his as he moves to the other side of the table to find an empty seat.  Armie gazes on after him, trying to assure himself Timmy would be ok.  Once he sees Timmy don a small smile when Michael comes over to hug him, he allows his attention to be momentarily pulled elsewhere, accepting handshakes and hugs from various members of the crew as he makes his way to find his own seat.

 

Soon enough, he’s caught up in a conversation with Sayombhu, who’s seated to his left.  They reminisce and talk about what will happen going forward, trying to keep the conversation light so they don’t get too bogged down in the emotion of it all.  Every minute or so, he flicks his gaze over to check on Timmy, mostly finding him chatting with Esther or Amira, but occasionally he sees him sitting alone, sipping on his rum and coke with a lost look on his face. 

 

His heart yearns to go over to him, but then someone else inevitably comes over to say their goodbyes and he gets distracted.  But the time he looks over and sees Timmy talking quietly with Luca, his face a mixture of agony and fear, the pull to go to him is too much.

 

He politely excuses himself from Sayombhu, giving him a quick squeeze to the arm by way of apology, and turns to find Timmy.  But when he looks back to where Timmy’s been for the past 45 minutes, he’s nowhere to be seen.  He starts to panic a bit, but then he spots Luca a few feet away, murmuring something into Peter’s ear.

 

He quickly makes his way over, worry plainly etched in his expression as he approaches them.  Luca turns to meet him when he’s a few feet away, laying a gentle hand on his arm before Armie has a chance to speak.  “Go to him.”  It’s a calm, simple instruction, much like the astute direction he’s come to expect from Luca over these past several weeks.  He swallows hard, nodding slowly as he meets Luca’s knowing eyes.

 

Luca smiles warmly, pulling him in to kiss both of his cheeks in succession.  “My boys.”  It’s affectionate and bittersweet, the finality of the moment beginning to sink in, and Armie has to bite back his tears as Luca squeezes him once more before releasing him and nodding his chin to the side door of the villa, indicating the direction Timmy went when he left.  He gives Luca a sad smile as he turns, making his way to follow after Timmy.

 

He makes his way out to the courtyard, casting a quick glance around, but Timmy has already left the premises.  He shoves his hands into the pockets of Oliver’s khaki pants, the cool night air making him shiver as he takes long strides across the street to the hotel he and Timmy were staying in until they flew back to the States tomorrow.

 

He doesn’t even bother trying Timmy’s room, instinct telling him he wouldn’t find him there.  He stops in front of his own door, taking a deep breath before letting himself into the small room.

 

Timmy is there, just as he knew he would be, leaning his upper torso out the window of the second-story window.  There’s a blunt, _Armie’s_ , pinched between the pointer and middle fingers of his right hand.  Timmy doesn’t even flinch when he closes the door softly behind him, taking a few steps forward but stopping in the middle of the room, waiting.  Timmy takes another hit of the joint, the smoke billowing out of his lips and wafting out into the night before he slowly turns from the window to perch on the edge of Armie’s bed, eyes downcast on the cream-colored carpet.

 

Armie waits a beat before moving to join him, sitting close enough so that their thighs touch.  Timmy wordlessly passes him the joint without looking up, and Armie gratefully takes it.  He sucks in a deep hit, willing himself to relax as he exhales a stream of smoke.  They sit there for long minutes, passing the blunt back and forth between them in total silence until Armie takes the last hit and sinks it into an empty beer bottle on the floor near his feet.

 

He feels Timmy’s weight shift so he’s leaning against him slightly, still facing forward but slowly allowing the comfort of Armie’s presence to seep into him.  When he hears Timmy’s breathing become labored, he risks a glance sideways to look at his face.  The way Timmy is desperately trying to hold back his tears breaks something in Armie in that moment.

 

He twists his upper body sideways to look at Timmy more fully, one hand coming up to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing along the sharp line of his cheekbone.  Timmy’s eyes slip shut as he softly nuzzles into the caress.

 

They’ve never spoken about the thing that’s been blossoming between them since the first day they met.  Never felt the need to, since he knows they both felt it in equal measure.  Looks gradually became longer and full of emotion, touches softer, time spent together stretching out into the early hours of the morning until the days all started to run together.  What they had was easy, comfortable, and safe.  But he also knew it was dangerous.  He’d held back on crossing lines he knew he couldn’t come back from, and Timmy had done the same.  But as he looks at Timmy now, his pale skin flushing bright pink at Armie’s touch, he knows there’s only one way this night ends.  It’s been an inevitability from the moment Armie burst into Timmy’s piano lesson and their worlds collided.

 

Timm’s eyes flutter open and he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees the look in Armie’s eyes.  He sees the brief flash of hesitation in Timmy’s expression before it melts away, giving way to his own acceptance and need.

 

Armie’s the first to lean in, and just before they meet, he feels Timmy breathe his name against his lips, warm air ghosting over his bottom lip a half-second before they’re kissing, soft and slow and tinged with the kind of sadness that has no magical cure.

 

Timmy’s lips part on a small gasp, and Armie doesn’t any waste time slipping his tongue into the offered space to seek out Timmy’s.  When Timmy’s hand winds into his hair, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, biting down on Timmy’s lower lip and gently tugging before his tongue tangles with Timmy’s again.

 

He starts to move his body forward the same moment Timmy twists his own to lean back, their minds and their bodies totally in sync, anticipating the other’s moves before they make them.  When Timmy’s fully stretched out beneath him, he slowly lowers his full weight onto him, careful not to crush Timmy’s thin frame with his massive one.  He rolls his hip once, eliciting a soft moan from Timmy, and then he’s lost in the velvety cavern of Timmy’s mouth again.

 

Time seems to stretch out before them, then he blinks and somehow they’re naked, Timmy panting quietly and writhing on his fingers as he ensures Timmy is prepared for him.  Timmy makes a sound that Armie knows means he’s ready, and he moves up back up the length of Timmy to seal their mouths together again.

 

He takes his time, doesn’t want to rush through the mechanics of the act.  Minutes or years pass between them, he isn’t sure, all he knows is the feel of Timmy all around him, penetrating his every cell and remaking him from the inside out.

 

He tries to memorize everything about this moment, file away all the tiny details in a quiet, safe part of his mind to save for nights when not being able to have this again gets to be too much.  Like the way Timmy’s broken moan makes him shiver, or the bite of Timmy’s nails on his arm and back when Armie finally pushes into him, or the way the sweat collects in the hollow of his throat and just above his upper lip, Armie bending down to lick the salty taste away so only Timmy’s naturally sweet flavor is left behind.  The way Timmy’s body grips him so tightly at first he can feel it in his bones, each drag of his hips easing the way a bit more until there is no more resistance.

 

Armie catalogues every gasp, whimper, and sigh, his ears tingling with the sound of them as they pass through his nervous system and settle in his soul.  He takes note of how Timmy’s hair is plastered to the side of his head, sweat-slick as he runs a hand through it to press their mouths together again.  Watches as Timmy arches his back straight off the bed when Armie finally finds the right angle for that sweet jolt of pleasure.  Feels the tensing and subsequent release of his muscles as they work to bring him closer and closer to the brink.  Timmy’s fingerprints are forever burned into his flesh as they cling desperately to the damp skin of Armie’s back.

 

The feeling of Timmy spasming around him as he reaches his peak is something he will never forget until the day he dies, the sensation so intense it has him following Timmy into oblivion only a moment later. 

 

Time drifts, his mind unable to stitch together the moments of the aftermath into anything resembling coherent.  He doesn’t know how they manage to get clean, only that when he finally focuses again, Timmy is curled against him, one hand placed gently over his heart and a leg swung over Armie’s thigh. 

 

At first he thinks Timmy might already be asleep, but a moment later he feels something hot and wet trickle onto his shoulder.  He feels the tremble of Timmy’s body a second later, and his hand immediately finds its way to Timmy’s hair, stroking gently as wraps his other arm around him tightly and pulls him closer.  He finds it oddly fitting that their night began with him comforting Timmy as he cried, and now it’s ending the same way.

 

Timmy leans up to kiss his mouth desperately, hungrily taking what he needs in his moment of despair, and Armie is all too willing to give it to him.  He needs it as much as Timmy seems to, the knowledge that this is all they will ever have is a cancer in the pit of his stomach, slowly spreading to every organ in his body and killing him.  But he will welcome sweet death if he can have this last perfect moment with him.

 

Timmy eventually cries himself to the point of exhaustion, finally falling asleep sprawled across Armie’s chest.  Armie’s consciousness fades in and out for hours, only faintly aware of the time ticking away the last few hours  they have together.  He finally dips into a deep sleep just before the sun peeks over the horizon.

 

When he wakes again, he’s alone.  His first reaction is a gut-punch of terror that Timmy had woken up to find himself in Armie’s bed and regretted what they’d done.  But then he remembers Timmy’s flight had been an early morning one while his was in late afternoon, so he probably just hadn’t wanted to wake Armie when he left.  He takes a deep breath as his panic subsides again.  He wants to feel sadness at not getting a last goodbye this morning, one last embrace to tide them over until they see each other next, but he knows it would only pale in comparison to what they gave each other last night.

 

He waits until the last possible minute before dragging himself out of the bed and finishing packing up his few meager possessions he’d brought with him to Bergamo, the rest of his luggage already shipped ahead of him back to L.A.  When he goes to pick up his bag, he’s stopped dead by what he finds.  There, folded neatly on top of his other clothes, was a soft green sweater, at least 2 sizes too small for him.  He recognizes it immediately.  It was what Timmy had been wearing on the first day they met in Crema.  His very own Billowy.

 

Armie picks it up and tenderly brings it to his face, inhaling deeply to catch every last bit of Timmy’s scent still clinging to the fabric.  His eyes swell with tears, the desire to hold him in his arms again and breathe in that flowery scent as he kisses down Timmy’s neck suddenly overwhelming, but he fights them back, knowing he doesn’t have time to break down right now.  He carefully folds the sweater back into his bag and does a double check around the room to make sure he hadn’t left anything. 

 

As he looks back over the room one last time, pausing in the doorway just before he walks out for the last time, he wonders if Timmy had taken anything of his to keep.  He hadn’t noticed anything missing from his luggage, but then he hadn’t allowed himself to look too carefully, either.  He sighs, closing the door and making his way back to his real life, his family, obligations that leave no room for summer romances and broken hearts.

 

It doesn’t hit him until much later.  After he’s dragged himself through the door of his perfect Hollywood home, given tired hugs to Liz and Harper and begged off going out for a big celebratory dinner with the whole crew.  When he’s gone upstairs to lie alone on his bed, Timmy’s sweater pressed tightly against his chest as he finally lets the tears he’s been holding in fall.  It’s only then that he realizes what it was that Timmy took with him from that room : his heart.


End file.
